A Series of Unfortunate Predictions
by SnowLilies
Summary: Ginny's Divination obsession leads to unexpected revelation, helped somewhat by a very special book and her usual luck of walking in on kissing couples. A Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley romance.


**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Disclaimer 2: **The title is based on "A Series of Unfortunate Events", by Lemony Snicket

**Disclaimer 3: **This is originally inspired by Emmylou's plot bunny and my own bunny, bred together that gave birth to this one. 

Text of Emmylou's bunny:

**410** Someone invents a book and sends it to Hogwarts. Dumbledore finds it so amusing that he puts it in the Great Hall permanently. It lists all the current couples at Hogwarts, all the 'Secret' couples, and all those about to become couples. What lengths will some go to to keep their names out of the book? Which are the first two teachers to show up on it? Bonus points if it's Snape/Trelawney.

(A plug: if you need a plot, visit her "Swimming in Plot Bunnies" thread on FAP! It's definitely worth it.)

**A Series of Unfortunate Predictions**

_By: Lily_

**Chapter One**

One of the worst things in life, Ginny Weasley decided one Saturday morning, was to have siblings who did not believe in you. And since she had six insufferable brothers, three of whom were in constant contact, little wonders were done to her self-confidence.

Not that she was a mouse in any respect, of course—_that_ would be pushing it—but Ginny was sure she would have accomplished something grand and wonderful, something her grandchildren might marvel over, if only she'd learned and mastered the Spell of Sealing Lips at the age of five.

Well, that was, if such a spell even existed. Fred said it did, but after four years and a few days' worth of Charms, Ginny still had not come across that particular one. Either it would be classified as a hex or jinx—or even a curse—or Fred was just being his usual honest self again. Unless, of course, it happened to be George who had confided the existence of that "nifty little spell" to her.

_Existing or not_, Ginny thought, as she glared back into Ron's smirking face with her own face quickly donning the colour of a very ripe tomato, a purloined copy of _Unfogging the Future_ thrown open on her lap, _it would be worth every single effort if I could just invent that wondrous nifty charm and use this brother as my Kneazle._

After a while, both Ginny and her patience had had enough of this suspense. "What exactly do you find so funny that you are staring at me with that ridiculous look on your face, Ronald Weasley?" she demanded, slamming the book shut.

Ron took another look at Ginny, and fell to the floor of the common room in hysterics. When he was finally calm enough, he sputtered, "_You_ are reading my old Divination textbook?"

"Yes, I noticed," Ginny said, as primly as she could. "I don't see why that's so amusing…oh, honestly, Ron, close your mouth! Didn't Mum ever tell you that that's very rude?"

Ron listened, and took a few deep breaths as he did so. When he looked as if he could speak properly again, he said, a lot more seriously, "Hey, tell me you aren't doing this because you want to try and impress Firenze, like everyone else—well, the girls," he corrected.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "No, of course not," she said in exasperation. "I'm not in desperate need of a date anytime soon."

"Oh, that's _right_," Ron said, squeezing his eyes; Ginny could only suppose that was supposed to be a wink. "You have Dean…you _are_ still dating, right?"

Ginny nodded, tapping the cover of her book in annoyance. She knew where this conversation was going to go. _Again._

"You know, I think he's a fine bloke and all," Ron said, "but I don't think he's exactly the perfect match for you."

"Let me guess," Ginny said sarcastically, cutting him off with a wave of her hand. "You think we are better staying as friends, because you already have someone much better in mind."

"How'd you know?" Ron said, looking genuinely impressed. "Maybe you do have Divination skills after all. You know, not the hocus-pocus kind Trelawney has."

Ginny was torn between snorting with laughter and grinning with pleasure, so she settled for a nod. "Oh, Divination isn't very hard," she confessed, holding up the book. "Basically, you just match up what you see with what it says inside the book. Then you put them together into a logical event. But of course," she acknowledged quickly, "I can see why _you_ would have problems with it."

"How long have you been reading it?" Ron demanded. "Was this why I could never find this textbook during the summer?"

"I read it from time to time," Ginny said, even though Ron was pretty much correct. She had been hiding in her room to read this book since the summer had begun. Probably because Hermione had been so determined to convince Ginny that Arithmancy was the better form of prediction that Ginny's curiosity got the better of her.

Of course, Ron needn't know the History of Ginny's Interest in Divination. After all, he didn't need to know that Ginny had been reading it since the summer.

"Ah," Ron said.

"It isn't as if you do your homework anyway," Ginny pointed out. "You are always too busy spending your time with Harry and Hermione."

"Hey, that's a great idea!" Ron said brightly. "Maybe you could try out a prediction on me?"

Ginny stared, unable to fathom the connection between 'spending time with Harry and Hermione' and 'you could try out a prediction on me'. Besides, Ron rarely ever supported her _that_ eagerly in her endeavours. And certainly she could not expect him to dance in joy when she was showing interest in a subject that he absolutely detested.

But dancing in joy was exactly what he was doing now. At least, a Ron-version of it; in other words, pacing erratically in a small circle, with a dangerously spacey look on his face.

"Sometime?" Ron added to his previous statement, after more pondering on his part.

"Er," Ginny said, scooting away from him with a deathlike grip on the book, "sure. Anytime, I think."

She hoped that _that_ would be the end of that and, before Ron happened to remember that he still had some Divination homework to do, began reading up on how bird entrails and ox entrails differ in their functions.

Sometimes, she had Ron's forgetfulness on her side.

****

* * *

Everything was calm for a few more weeks, as September turned into October. Ginny soon became busy with her huge load of homework that every fifth-year must have, Quidditch practises which included her shoving the Seeker position back into Harry's hands and getting herself the coveted Chaser position, and her weekly theft of Ron's Divination textbook.

Of course, Ginny was very careful to avoid being alone with Ron at first. It wasn't that she expected Ron to actually expect her to predict a future for him; just that, well, it would be awkward telling Ron his future. Besides, Harry was Ron's best friend…and even though Ginny no longer _liked_ Harry, she still did not want to ruin her image in front of him.

When Ron failed to mention the subject for almost four weeks, and when he talked to Ginny quite as normally as anyone would speak to her, Ginny allowed herself a breathe of relief. Ron probably forgot, which wasn't surprising.

It turned out that Ron had rather good memory after all.

After a very calm lunch and a very ordinary supper, Ginny was sitting in an armchair, reading _Unfogging the Future_, when Ron came in with a huge sandwich, talking with Harry and Hermione. Ginny did not bother to scramble away, and instead flipped a page noisily as Harry and Ron passed her chair, chatting; Hermione, not surprisingly, had gone to her corner to begin a few essays.

As usual.

Then Harry said in his calm and adorable voice that he would be going up to read a few chapters on Potions before going out to fly, while Ron agreed to wait for a while.

As usual, except usually Ron would make a few crude remarks concerning their Potions master.

But after Harry had disappeared into the dorm room—Ginny found her eyes following him in a very platonic and friendly manner—Ron did not go to Seamus or Dean for a game of chess, and instead went over to his innocent little sister, reading by the fireplace.

Very secretively.

Ginny gulped instinctively as he approached. _Uh-oh,_ she thought, recognizing the look on his face.

"Good evening, Ginny," he said conversationally, giving her a huge smile. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Well, it's actually evening, as you just mentioned," Ginny said cautiously, and decided to get right to the point. "Look, Ron, if you want to ask me for a favour, it's not—"

Ron pounced on her cue eagerly. "I remember you are very good at predicting things," he said quickly, in a low voice, and his eyes darted around for any stray listeners; there weren't any, and he carried on. "So I had been thinking…and maybe you could—"

"I'm not _very_ good," Ginny interrupted him, hugging the book to her chest protectively. "In fact, I am _terrible_ at it. Don't you have other things to do? Here's the Divination textbook. I am almost _positive_ Firenze assigned you homework."

"Actually, no," Ron said. "He doesn't give homework."

"Oh," Ginny said. "Well, how about a game of chess, my favourite big brother? I've been training under George and Dean and I think I can beat you now!"

"No."

Well, at least _that_ was a simple answer. Ginny racked her brains, trying to think of other excuses. "You know, Ron," she said, beginning on the guilt trip process that sometimes worked. "_I_ have a lot of work to do. I'm taking the O.W.L.s this year, after all, and I want to get twenty O.W.L.s _so_ I should probably study my Muggle Studies a little bit more. I should go! Here's your book…I wonder why I'm carrying it…must've picked it up somewhere…"

"I thought the professor never assigns work on Fridays," Ron mused. "I remember Hermione bragging about it—or was it Arithmancy?"

"Er," Ginny said. The professor actually did assign work, although she had finished it, given her intense enthusiasm for Muggle telephones. (Her childhood dream had been to call Harry Potter—who lived with Muggles—on the phone.) "Well, you know how teachers change," she said lamely.

"Oh, come on, Ginny," Ron said in a voice he'd used since they were little kids, whenever he wanted to test out a spell on one of Ginny's pityingly few dolls. "You would do this for me, wouldn't you?"

And Ginny, having always let Goldilocks or Brunette be subjected to Ron's toy wand—that usually turned their faces purple or their hair into spikes—could not help relenting. Someday, she would become immune to Ron's "coercion"—but probably not anytime soon. "Oh, fine," she said, unfolding her legs from beneath her. "I guess I could give it a try."

Ron's face split into an enormous grin that confused Ginny; Ron had never acted _that_ grateful before. "Thank you!" he said, hugging her—well, choking her around the neck.

"You would be welcome _if you would get off me_," barked Ginny. Ron did, his face still too surreally happy. "Um. I think it would…er…unfog my Inner Eye if we do it somewhere where there aren't so many people around."

"Good idea!" Ron said. "Let's go to my dormitory."

Ginny choked. _The dormitory? _"The Room of Requirement would be _much_ better—" she began, but Ron was already dragging her in the direction of the staircase leading up to the boys' dorms.

"People will get suspicious if we just leave," he explained. "Besides, it's almost curfew and I don't want to get caught by Malfoy or Pansy!"

"Curfew? But that's in three hours!" Ginny exclaimed, her cries falling on deaf ears. "Get _off_ me, I can walk by myself. I don't want other people to think I'm eager to visit my brother's dormitory."

At that, Ron paused. "Harry_ is_ in there," he said helpfully.

Ginny groaned, but was utterly grateful that she managed not to blush. "If you don't be quiet this instant," she threatened, "my Inner Eye will give you a very unsavoury future!"

That, at least, worked.

Sort of.

"Okay." Ron had reached an important decision. "I'll chase Harry out first."

* * *

Moments later, Ginny found herself sitting on the floor of the sixth-year boys' dormitory, _Unfogging the Future_ open on her lap, waiting for Ron to tell her what exactly he wanted her to do. Since the said person was currently pacing back and forth, she busied herself with studying the dorm room she had been in only once, although she would rather not remember that particular occasion.

The bed with the West Ham Football team, Ginny could tell, had to be Dean's. After all, the wins and losses of that team had constituted most of Dean's owls to her during the summer. The one next to his had to be Seamus', and the one that was neater than the others would be Neville's. Then she turned to look at Ron's bed, which was right behind hers, before allowing her eyes to travel to Harry's bed.

Harry's bed looked just like everyone else's, unless one were to count that his bed was significantly messier. But that was understandable, Ginny felt, because Harry had greater destiny than to be tidying up his bed. And anyway, it would not matter to Ginny if there were smelly pigs or noisy chickens on it, because it was Harry's bed and she'd wanted to see it since she was, oh, around five.

And now that she was there, and not there to steal a certain diary, she was almost tempted to touch this object of her admiration, with the blankets still bunched at one end and the pillows thrown lopsided and the sheets still wrinkled from when Harry had sat—till Ron chased him out of the room.

Before Ginny could embark on her reveries of her earlier Hogwarts days when she'd dreamed of waltzing in to see Harry—or, rather, returning from the Yule Ball holding Harry's hand—Ron finally retrieved his verbal skills.

"You would keep whatever it is a secret, right?" he said, his ears slowly turning red.

"If you would promise not to tell Fred and George that I read your Divination textbook," Ginny said immediately, having envisioned her brothers' new inventive jokes already.

"Agreed."

"Okay," Ginny said, seizing his hand and doing the handshake they had invented as children, whenever a compromise was reached. "It's a deal. Go on now."

Ron began to stutter. "Well, I was…you could predict something such as, maybe, er—"

"Such as, maybe, er…" prompted Ginny impatiently.

Now Ron's face was turning red as well. "Such as, maybe, er, _supposedly_…I…I er…I _like_ a girl. Supposedly!" he emphasised quickly, when a smirk began spreading over his sister's face.

"Of course, _only_ supposedly," Ginny agreed, nodding convincingly.

"Supposedly," Ron said.

"Care to tell me her name?" Ginny said, when it was clear that Ron was too embarrassed to say anything for a while.

"She's—_it's all hypothetical_," Ron cried, seeing through Ginny's devious intentions just in time. "It doesn't mean I actually like a girl. It just means that I _may_ like a girl. Maybe I do, but it's all…theoretical."

Ginny grinned. "Okay, it's all theoretical," she said.

Ron was now fidgeting. "Maybe it isn't so hypothetical that she doesn't exist," he corrected, and Ginny could almost feel the heat emanating from his face. "Because she does exist, and maybe hypothetically, I want to ask…you know…if she would…you know…if next Hogsmeade weekend, which is—oh no, it's coming up! I mean, you know, I would, _you know_."

"I think I know," Ginny said.

"Maybeiwanttoaskherifshewantstocometohogsmeadewithmeanddo…something _very_ innocent," Ron said rapidly.

"Uh-oh," Ginny muttered, realizing too late what Ron was trying to ask her to do.

"Could you predict and see if she would say yes?" Ron finished, giving Ginny a very imploring look that made it difficult for her to just turn her poor brother down.

"You could ask me next Friday," Ginny suggested. In other words, she might just have seven extra days to think of an excuse to put this off.

But Ron would have none of that.

"I don't want to do it if she's around. I mean, if she is in our house…assuming she's in our house," he said, words coming out rapidly. "She may think it's weird you are visiting my dorm a lot and maybe she will know that I'm trying to ask you do predict if she will let me ask her out because she's brilliant—I mean, assuming she is." He fidgeted a bit more. "And anyway, I need to make a very comprehensive plan of what to do that day. For example, if it is rainy, I'll take her to the Three Broomsticks and talk about…books. And if it is sunny, I'll take her around Hogsmeade, and _then_ take her to the Three Broomsticks to talk about books. Or, if it is a cloudy day, I'll take her to Honeydukes, and talk about books there. See, Ginny, it's all very important if I'm prepared beforehand."

"Ah," Ginny said, regretting more than ever that she had let Ron learn of her secret obsession with Divination.

"Yes," Ron said. "You _could_ predict that, couldn't you?"

"I could use Arithmancy," Ginny offered. "I do reasonably well in that class."

"But if you use Arithmancy, you'll need our names and ages," Ron pointed out, having probably learned too much Arithmancy from a certain best friend. "So it's much safer and better for both of us, if you just use…Divination."

"Er," Ginny said.

"Maybe, palmistry?" Ron said, holding out his grease-covered hands.

Ginny scratched her head. "I think we should try tealeaves, since that's the easiest one," she said finally. "But just remember, I'm a novice. I'm most likely—no, I'm _definitely_—going to make some mistake. So you don't have to trust my result one hundred percent. _Especially_ not in this department. Because I'm a novice, and I could be wrong."

Ron looked _highly_ affronted. "I'm not that insecure!"

Ginny wisely chose not to argue with Ron regarding the validity of _that_ statement.

* * *

Finding a teacup, a saucer, and tealeaves turned out to be a difficult task, despite a few thorough rummages of four boys' belongings. (Harry's was spared because Ginny did not want to risk Harry's temperamental inclinations.) But finally, Ron managed to transfigure one of his inkbottles into a cup, a sheet of parchment into a saucer, and "borrowed" a few leaves from Seamus' leaf collection, only to be transfigured into horrifyingly misshapen tealeaves.

Then, with more prodding from Ginny's own wand, a mug of steaming tea was presented to Ron on a saucer quivering and threatening to change back into parchment.

"Okay," Ginny said, picking up _Unfogging the Future_ again. "Are you ready?"

Ron nodded. If he'd ever looked _that_ eager in Trelawney or Firenze's class, Ginny felt, he would have beaten both Lavender and Parvati in crystal gazing.

She looked down at the page. "Well, first, you have to sit down."

"Do we have to sit on chairs?" Ron asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"Probably not," Ginny said, though she wasn't entirely sure. "Hmmm. Carrying on. 'Drink until only the dregs remain in the bottom of the cup.'" She looked up quickly as Ron reached for the cup. "You might want to wait a little. I overdid the Boiling Spell and the tea is scalding—"

Apparently, she was too late, because Ron nearly dropped the mug in order to nurse his injured tongue.

"There is something called a Cooling Charm. And patience," Ginny said, somewhat exasperated. "Are you sure you want to continue? You don't want to, er, infect your tongue! What was that disease Dad talks about sometimes? Pneumona?"

Unfortunately, Ron had a strong resolve when he wanted it, and after five Cooling Charms, he declared the tea drinkable, and finished drinking, albeit with some wincing and faces now and then. "Go on!" he prompted.

Reluctantly, Ginny began reading again.

" 'Swill these around the cup three times'—no, with the _left_ hand—'and turn the cup upside down on its saucer'—_careful_, that's not a _real_ saucer—" Ginny rubbed her cheek and glanced at the saucer worriedly. "Now, 'wait for the last of the tea to drain away'…you got that? And um, now you will have to give it to me to read!"

She finished with a sweaty forehead, and looked up in time to have the mug shoved at her. "Well, what does it say?" Ron asked eagerly.

Ginny flipped to the page of interpretations, and squinted in concentration. "You have a star here," she said, assessing a giant tealeaf that must have once been Seamus' maple leaf. "That means 'a wish will come true.'"

"You have wonderful promise!" Ron cried. "What else?"

"Hmm…over here you have some sort of a heart," Ginny said, finally making sense of two very oddly shaped leaves. "That means you will have, um, 'a very romantic relationship in the very near future.'"

"Let me see it," Ron said, leaning over. "Oh, that's right. Hey, this cup is not bad. Think it will be my lucky ink bottle or something."

"Wait, I'm not done," Ginny said. "I think I see…a diamond here. Hmm…okay, this means there will be some surprise, but 'nothing entirely bad', so that's pretty good too…yes, I'm _almost_ done…you wanted me to do it, Ron, so stop trying to take the cup!"

"Fine," Ron relented.

"Here's one last pattern. Looks kind of like a cross." Ginny looked down at the list. " 'A cross'," she read, "'means that you will have great trials and suffering in the near future.'"

_Oops._

"What?" Ron exclaimed, seizing the cup. "Where is it? I don't see it!"

"I probably misread it—careful!" Ginny groaned, snatching the cup back and holding it away from Ron, should harm come to this innocent inkbottle. "I told you I'm not great at this sort of thing. As I said…I probably misread it somewhere."

"But it makes perfect sense!" Ron cried, choosing a bad moment to desert logic. "I will have the romance I've always wished for, but a surprise may come in the way and destroy it!"

Ginny sighed. "Don't be so theatrical, Ron. Listen, I'm _sure_ there's something wrong here—"

_"It makes sense!"_

"Ron, there _has_ to be a mistake—your bad Transfiguration skills probably messed up the process—would you listen to me?"

"It makes sense!" repeated Ron.

"Now look here, Ron," Ginny said, as reasonably as she could. "I'm sure this cup is wrong. At least, the cross. Because Her—I mean, the girl you like—"

"Who said anything about Hermione?" Ron said, jumping up. "I never did!"

"Ron! Could we start making sense?" Ginny shouted. "Sit down and stop yelling like a banshee. I don't want anyone down in the common room to think I've just murdered you." He did not heed her words. "If you don't be quiet, I _will_ murder you!"

It was probably the threat of Ginny's wand, but after a few minutes, Ron calmed down enough and sat back on his bed, frowning. "But you know," he said pensively, "it really does make a lot of sense. See, maybe the girl will say yes, but it turns out that she's—"

"But it turns out that she's in love with you as well," Ginny supplied.

"How would you know?" Ron demanded. "You said yourself that you stink at Divination?"

_Could we be any less contradictory?_ "I said I'm not very good," Ginny protested, very frustrated. "If I stink, then you should not believe my prediction!"

"But it makes sense!"

"What makes sense?" asked a certain Harry Potter from the doorway.

Ginny jumped up immediately, trying to block Ron from view as Harry came inside with her boyfriend at his heels. "Sorry, Ginny," Dean Thomas said, noting Ron's crazy eyes and Ginny's embarrassed face. "We didn't realise there was a family reunion going on here."

"I just thought I heard a banshee," Harry explained seriously, hands casually in the pocket of his robes. "Not likely, but I figured I'd come up and check. You know, in case it eats up my homework." He frowned. "How does a banshee work again?"

Dean shrugged. "Depends on which version you want," he said. "Personally, I've always preferred the Muggle version."

Ginny realised her mouth was hanging open, so she closed it. "Well!" she said cheerfully. "I'm glad that there isn't a banshee! I'll just leave you chaps to…er…oh!" She quickly slid _Unfogging the Future_ from view with her foot. Harry and Dean, hopefully, did not notice. "All's well that end's well, or something like that, as the Muggles say! Goodnight, Ron! Don't think too much about you-know-what, okay?"

"I still think it makes sense," Ron said gloomily, but he acted normal as Harry and Dean sat down. Just before Ginny sped out of the room with the teacup still in her hand, she heard him say, "By the way, there's been a bit of mishap concerning Seamus' leaf collection…"

* * *

"What's going on?" Hermione Granger asked in interest, when Ginny made her way to her usual armchair, but this time without _Unfogging the Future_. "I thought I heard Ron going on a rampage up there."

"Close enough, but nothing too serious," Ginny answered as honestly as she could.

And 'nothing too serious' appeared very much the case when, a few minutes later, the three boys went outside for a late game of Quidditch, a few green leaves prominently features in Ron's tangled red hair.

Very _un_surprisingly, that was not exactly the end of the whole affair.

**A/N: **Please review! Please? It'll make the story ever so sweeter! .

_With much love,_

_Lily_


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